Falling Free
by VR Trakowski
Summary: He'd known this conversation was coming sooner or later.
Inspired by this week's Jupiter Ascending Headcanon question: _Do you think there was any emotional fallout between Caine and Stinger about his betrayal? Caine gave every appearance of having forgiven him completely–will that outlast the heat of the moment, or will Stinger's actions be a source of future tension between them (or between Stinger and Jupiter)?_

* * *

"I expected you to be angry, you know."

Stinger's voice, slightly hoarse with fatigue and drink, came out of the darkness like regret itself. Caine, equally tired, already had his eyes shut, but his ears were working fine. He considered the statement, then decided he needed more information.

"Angry about what?"

"Orus."

Caine felt his wings twitch in weary annoyance, but that was all. He'd known this conversation was coming sooner or later, but the anniversary of their courts-martial wasn't the date he'd have bet on.

"What makes you think I wasn't?"

The bottle Stinger was drinking from was plastic, so it didn't clink against the floor, but Caine could hear the gurgle and the swallow, and smell the sharpness of evaporating alcohol.

"Afterwards. On Dio's ship. You made as though everything was right and tight, like I hadn't thrown you to the Void for my own gain."

Caine let his brows go up, and took a gulp of his own drink; his was in a glass bottle and was about a hundred times better than Stinger's rot-gut, but then it _had_ been a gift from Jupiter.

"Don't give me that shit, Stinger. _Gain._ You had good reason, it was Kiza's _life_."

The raspy sound from five feet away was half a cough and half a laugh, with no amusement at all. Stinger always had a gift for sounding like Death's wingbeats when he was drinking.

"You didn't know that at the time."

Caine let out a silent breath. Stinger was right; he had felt startled, horrified, betrayed, but not mad. But this wasn't a conversation that could have a happy ending.

"Sting. You really don't want to know."

"Don't tell me what I want, Wise."

The words were sharper than Caine expected, with a hint of Stinger's old command, but neither of them were in the same place now and it didn't even make Caine flinch.

But-

He took another drink, rolling the liquor around in his mouth and breathing out to extract all the fine flavor. Lycantants metabolized alcohol too quickly to get drunk for long, but with enough effort he could sustain a pleasant buzz for a while.

"I expected it."

The silence from the other end of the darkness was long. Caine could smell Stinger's puzzlement even over their mutual fumes, and so he knew the moment it blossomed into understanding. The guilt bursting from Stinger's pores was enough to choke him.

"Caine-"

"No."

It was hard, even now, to be sharp with his former commander, but Caine was stronger than before. He rocked the bottle back and forth, estimating that there was roughly a third of the contents left.

"Everyone betrayed me sooner or later, Sting. It was only a matter of time."

The words came out gentle; it wasn't that this truth had softened any, but Stinger was after all his friend, _still_ his friend, and that meant something.

Caine could tally them without even trying-his Splicer, who misbred him; his littermates, who rejected him; the Legion, in a thousand petty mistreatments for being what he was; the Skyjackers, in condemning him for something he couldn't have helped. Even Titus, withholding crucial information.

It was true that Caine hadn't expected Stinger to betray him just _then_ , but he'd known it was coming. Eventually.

He opened his eyes and saw very little-it really _was_ dark in there-but offered the words anyway, because fire-bright Kiza was the exception to the rule and he loved her as kin.

"At least yours was for a good reason."

The scent of salt and moisture bit delicately at his nose, and Caine knew that only the lack of light allowed it. He heard a hollow rattle as the empty plastic rolled across the floor, and took one more gulp before sliding his bottle in Stinger's direction.

Stinger's breath was uneven, but it paused for his swallow and then hitched once before smoothing out. After a moment the bottle slid back.

"I'm too drunk to appreciate that, don't waste it on me."

Caine shrugged and scooped it back up.

It was a long time before Stinger spoke again, and when he did Caine was relieved to hear that they'd moved past the awkward apologies that he didn't want. His former commander's voice was thoughtful now.

"You always were finer material than the rest of us. Stronger metal."

Once Caine wouldn't have believed it, but he was claimed now, part of a unit, and it gave him a solidity he couldn't have imagined before.

"It got me here."

Stinger hummed, a drowsy sound, and Caine grinned into the dark. Sleep was coming for his friend.

He stretched a little as Stinger began to snore, and tipped his head back against the wall to just breathe for a bit. Next year, he thought, they really had to do something else. Or just ignore the day.

Eventually, he'd get up and find a blanket to cover Stinger, who had managed to miss the one essential point.

 _Everyone betrayed me._

 _Past tense._

Caine pictured dark eyes and a slow smile, and the miracle of trust that was his Queen. The darkness held him close and safe, and he lifted the bottle in toast.

"To Jupiter."

 _Forever._


End file.
